Morning Sickness
by SammyQuill
Summary: AU Lily/Severus. "Something is very wrong with Lily and only you are to blame? How could you have let this happen to her?"


You hear the fluid hit the porcelain in a rush and feel another dagger piecing your heart. And you wish that it would pierce harder. Or at least try to do a better job – because what you did was worthy of a thousand daggers' work on your person, simultaneously.

This is the third time this week this has happened.

You feel her hair, damp with sweat in your fingers, and refrain from using a few choice expletives. It would not do to swear in her presence – not now, anyway.

How could you have been so stupid, how could you have been so careless? Even a person possessing the smallest grain of intelligence could have remembered, but not you. You forgot, and now, because of you, she is suffering. Blast you to the deepest pits of hell, Severus Snape.

You hear dry heaves now. She has already expelled everything she had for dinner. Her small frame shudders, and you look around desperately, looking for anything to make her feel better.

She gets to her feet, still weak from her latest bout of morning sickness and tries shakily to stand straight. You let go of her hair and immediately put your arm around her waist to support her weight. You would carry her across in your arms, but you know this will not help her condition in the least. The last thing you need to do is make it worse, as if you had not done enough already.

She tries to take a step towards the sink, probably to rinse out her mouth, but she is too weak even for that, although she always tries to put on a brave face. Your Lily was never one to admit defeat. You tighten your hold on her, silently telling her to stay still for a while. She is very good at understanding your non-existent speeches; she had always been.

A moment later, you feel her slump against your chest as her arms hold on to you for support. And perhaps it's your wishful thinking – no, it really [i]_is[/i]_ your wishful thinking – but you hear a small sigh of contentment escape her. Almost as if she is happy to be living this hellish nightmare you are responsible for.

You touch your lips lightly to her damp forehead, trying to tell her how sorry you are for all this, how it does not have to be like this, how there are still a few weeks left.

Her mouth sets itself in that stubborn curve you have come to associate with her condition. She insists on going through this for the coming months, insists on wracking herself with sickness and pains every morning, insists in keeping that thing that is making her so weary and white and pale.

And you, of course, will listen to her. When have you not? You have always given her whatever she wanted, regardless of whether it was good for her. And this time will be no different.

***

You arrange the cushions more comfortably around Lily's back and head as she rests on the sofa, trying all the while not to hurt her. Once you are sure she is as comfortable as she can possibly be on this hopelessly inadequate couch, you wave your wand and Summon the glass of cold apple juice you keep for such mornings. Lily insists that the juice is more than sufficient for her vitamin needs, not to mention necessary to wash away the awful taste of the potion she has to take on mornings such as this one.

You try to be inconspicuous and hope Lily can't see your hand shaking slightly. But whatever hope you had of concealing your terror is dashed when the glass arrives, its contents all but spilling over the rim. A stormy glass of juice – how ironic?

Lily takes the glass in her steady hands, just enjoying the feel of the cool surface against her skin. After a moment, she tentatively takes a sip.

"It's not your fault, you know."

"Of course it is, Lily. Every damn thing is my fault! If I hadn't forgotten-"

"Well, you hadn't."

"What?"

For a moment, you feel your feet leaving the floor, or maybe it was the floor that left your feet. In any case, gravity renders itself null and void as the words escape her slightly moist lips.

"But why?" you say, trying desperately to understand what you could have done to make her feel obliged to do something like this. To the best of your knowledge, you had never mentioned any desire to become a… And how could she think you would want something that would make her go through all this pain?

"Because I wanted to, Sev. Why else?" she makes it sound so simple, so natural. As if this is really something she could want.

"Lily, you should have… we should have... discussed… very unsafe… dangerous…"

"Please, Sev, give it a rest. I want to have my husband's baby. Yes, Sev, it's a BABY. [i]_Our[/i]_ baby and I [i]_want[/i]_ it! And I know it's not much more than a few cells right now but I [i]_love[/i]_ it, just like I love you. So why can't you just get that in your head?"

"Lily, think rationally… you're twenty-two… there will be loads of time-"

"For you to come up with more reason why this is a bad idea," she fumes, her face going red. Great, now you've made her angry. You just can't do anything right, can you?

You turn to leave, hoping that your absence will make her feel at least slightly better. As you reach the door, you hear a slight whimper from the couch and bolt back to it. What have you done now? How could you have made her cry? You really [i]_are_[/i] the most worthless excuse for a man to ever exist.

"Lily, darling, I'm so sorry," you plead as you kneel at her feet, her hands clasped in yours – but that only serves to make the tears flow thicker and faster. You wonder if you should let go of her, but she is gripping you like she would never let go, almost like she couldn't bear to.

After what seems like an infinite amount of time, she wipes her eyes and snuggles closer to you on the couch. You don't remember when you moved to sit beside her, but are glad that you did. One of her hands is tracing patterns across your palms and finger while the other is clutched protectively around her stomach. And that is when you realise that things will be okay, that Lily will be okay – because you will not let it happen otherwise.

"We're going to be fine," you say in her hair, so softly that you wonder if she can even hear you. But it's Lily, of course – she could have heard you even you hadn't said anything to begin with.

"All three of us."


End file.
